Kurrs' Digital Tapestry of Words

Too much can make anyone a child. You say you see a child in my eyes, and I think you're right. This much emotion breaks the layer of adulthood, regresses the self. I cry, again and again, because of how much I feel. What would you say if I said I see a child in you too? Barely managing to feed and house yourself, you wither away because of circumstance but also because you cannot be bothered to care. Your own body and self are worth so little to you. Irresponsible, a way of living I am not even sure I am capable of. So very... young.

You are I are much the same, just reversed.

I am fit, healthy, strong, and treat myself with the dignity I deserve. Yet my emotions are a wasteland, uncontrolled and damaged, self-destructive by nature, causing me to do things and act in ways that I don't always approve of.

You are a wreck, physically dysfunctional, and probably possessed of multiple nutritional deficiencies even in spite of your friends' help. Yet emotionally, you are in control. You don't run off and do ridiculous things you don't mean. The scary thing about you is that you mean to do all you're doing.

I hope you leave soon. Not my house, but this city. It's what you want, what you need. If relocation is all that is necessary to start the process of fixing you, then the sooner the better. There's only so much a person's body and mind can take. I worry about you.

I have a midterm at 3pm. I'm trying to prepare, but this... isn't the best of times to be thinking straight or studying. I'm still going to try. You lay in my bed in pain, due to some as yet unknown but not altogether unsurprising physical ailment. For once, you're refusing my offers of help. I think you've come to the conclusion you don't have anything to give back, nothing to exchange. And, like me, you hate charity.

You're still asleep, it's hours later. I can't believe how beautiful you are (a bit of guilt nags and wonders how much it has to do with the streak of pain across your sleeping face). I've never loved anyone like this, although I never love anyone the same as the last. But the intensity, my gods the intensity. Will everyone that follows feel pale in comparison? Do I even want to love like this again? It burns, and my feathers melt from their wax as I near the sun. Am I already falling, the ground rushing up towards me as toothpick trees become mammoth spires before my open eyes?

Currently Listening: Metric - Calculation Theme

I'm gonna link the music I'm listening to from now on. If you can't d/l it, why would you care anyways?